Bleached Shorts
by Rairakku Hana
Summary: What if ...   A collection of Ichihime flash fics, past, present, and future. Ratings will vary.
1. Chapter 1

_**Just Checking **_

Bleach; Ichihime short

Word Count: 1792

Warning: K; for serious in-your-face fluff

Disclaimer: all characters herein belong to Kubo Tite.

What if ...Ichigo made a wild assumption?

**~o0o~**

Surely, someone was testing her.

Orihime licked her dry lips and shifted from foot to foot with a surfeit of nervous energy. Her tummy wouldn't stop churning as she stole another peek at a fellow university student that hailed her before she could leave campus.

The word that Orihime Inoue was looking for date had spread like wildfire through their college campus, probably fanned along by an impatient Tatsuki-chan. That in turn resulted in it taking her almost an hour –instead of the normal ten minutes- to leave school grounds.

This was the fourth person to stop her this afternoon, or more accurately put, the seventh one today. She was beginning to wonder if there was a flashing sign over her head informing the student body at large that she was available both Friday and Saturday night, first come, first serve.

Her smile was awkward and unnatural as she fluttered her fingers in goodbye after giving her number to yet another hopeful.

Could she really follow through with this? Orihime snapped her phone closed and clenched it in her fist. She felt so disloyal for some reason. Pained. Confused. Heartsick.

"Inoue-san?"

And yet another one appears.

Orihime bit the edge of her lip to hold back a groan. Turning, she let a welcoming smile curve her lips as she sternly reminded herself of her deal with Tatsuki. Her best friend asked, pleaded, and browbeat her into giving people whose name wasn't Kurosaki Ichigo a chance since –as she truthfully pointed out- he still hadn't made a move of his own. How depressing. And eventually Orihime agreed and gave her word that she would try.

She wasn't making any promises though.

And of course, luck was not on her side today. She could see Ichigo over her newest candidate's shoulder and he was heading this way. _No, not now!_ Swallowing thickly, Orihime returned his nod with a small wave before breathing a sigh of relief when someone stopped him to talk.

"Inoue-san?"

Orihime blinked, already forgetting that she was talking to someone. Murmuring an apology for being rude, she tried to ignore the fact that Ichigo was only a few feet away. Instead, she focused her attention on the thin awkward man standing in front of her as he nervously pushed his glasses up his nose in a move reminiscent of her friend Uryuu.

At least this time it was someone familiar. They had a class together on Thursdays and even sat somewhat close to each other sometimes. But that didn't erase the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach as they exchanged numbers. If anything, it made it worse, knowing that she would see his eager face tomorrow in class.

"Oi, was that guy bothering you? You looked uncomfortable."

Spinning around in surprise, Orihime looked up to see Ichigo standing beside her, staring darkly after the man that just left. "N-no, he was just asking for my number." She answered without thought before blushing and breaking into a fast walk. Ichigo didn't need to know that. It sounded like she was bragging.

Nodding as he grasped the situation, Ichigo slung his bag over his shoulder and matched his longer stride to hers. "Oh. Well, he didn't look too disappointed at not getting it."

"B-but I did give it to him." she murmured as they left campus, finally heading home.

Sighing, Ichigo's shoulders slumped as if under a heavy burden and he muttered. "You're too nice sometimes, Inoue."

"You make it sound like a bad thing."

"Not bad, so much as frustrating."

Orihime's brows furrowed and she glanced up at him in confusion. "Frustrating?"

"Well yeah. No guy wants his girlfriend handing out her number to the competition."

Her eyes went wide with shock. Did Ichigo just use the 'g' word? Directed towards her? He couldn't have. Stupid ears, hearing only what you want to hear.

But it really did sound like he said exactly that.

"Umm …this g-girlf-friend …who?"

Not paying attention to her garbled question, Ichigo shifted his bag to his opposite hand and scowled. "Tch, that guy was definitely on the prowl." His pace slowed as he glanced over his shoulder in the direction that the sleek black haired Casanova went, and mumbled under his breath. "The idiot should just look elsewhere and not bother asking you."

Her question about the possible use of the 'g' word was pushed aside by Ichigo's complaining. "It's not a bother. Maybe I want to go out with him." She said stoutly before having to chase after Ichigo to yank on his sleeve. "Wait, why are you laughing?"

He just shrugged his shoulders and grinned down at her before admitting. "It just struck me as funny."

Orihime's mouth fell open. Ichigo was making fun of her, wasn't he? "You don't think I'd say 'yes' if he asked me out?"

Not even slowing his stride, he answered without hesitation. "I know you wouldn't."

Coming to a full stop, Orihime crossed her arms over her chest and her bottom lip curled down in a rare show of displeasure. "You sound pretty certain of yourself, Kurosaki-kun."

"Of course I'm certain. You made me a promise, and you're not the type to play fast and loose."

Her arms unfolded to fall limply at her sides and Orihime searched her mind for any promise she might have made to him that pertained to dating or anything of that sort. There wasn't anything! Watching Ichigo continue to walk away, she stared at his back in confusion before calling out to him. "P-promise …what promise?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Ichigo furrowed his brows at seeing her so far behind him. Turning, he waited for her to catch up before sighing when Orihime showed no sign of budging from her spot. "Geez, are you forgetful or what." He teased, amusement shining in his eyes. "Does it really take me saying five lifetimes to jog your memory?"

Her mouth fell open as pure, undiluted shock flooded her system. What? He couldn't …He didn't …There was no way! Orihime snapped her mouth shut and could only stare back, speechless and her heart skipping as panic set in. He could only mean her vow of living five lifetimes, but wanting only one love. Him.

Ichigo lips curled up ever so slightly at the corner and he arched a brow questioningly, obviously waiting for her to answer. Of course she remembered. How could she ever forget? Orihime nodded her head like an automaton. "I didn't forget. I just …" Shaking herself free of the shock paralyzing her body, her fingers twisted around each other as she stammered disjointedly. "I just didn't think you …I mean you never …"

A genuine smile softened his features and his eyes were full of warmth and affection, directed solely at her. He knew. Orihime could see the truth in his familiar brown eyes. Ichigo knew she loved him, and he didn't reject her or her feelings. Dare she hope he felt the same? She pressed a fist to her chest, trying without success to quiet the racing of her heart. Was this real or only a figment of her imagination, nothing more than another fevered dream.

Walking back to her side, Ichigo towered over her still figure. He tilted head to the side in question, murmuring, "What?"

She slowly lifted her head to see him looking down at her with concern. He could always tell when she had something troubling on her mind. But Ichigo wasn't one to pry, he would just stand protectively nearby and offer her his support. It was just one of the many things she loved about him.

A bemused smile lifted the corners of her lips and Orihime waved away his worry with a swish of her hand. "It's nothing, Kurosaki-kun.

Staring down at her in silence, Ichigo's eyes moved over her face almost like a caress. Orihime shivered and wondered what that particular look in his eyes meant. He had looked at her like that before, but never this intense though, and definitely not while standing on a busy sidewalk.

"Kurosaki-kun?" she whispered.

Blinking, he jerked back. Hot color stained his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Come on. I'll walk you home."

She nodded slowly in agreement and fell into step with him out of habit. Following the same path they did on most days, she walked quietly at his side, deep in thought. What just happened?

Ichigo asking if she wanted a curry or kabocha korokke today dragged Orihime from her thoughts. Her tummy growled in response. Sheepishly looking to the side, she rubbed the back of her neck while Ichigo and the shop's fry lady laughed good-naturedly at her.

They resumed their walk to her apartment a few minutes later, a brown paper bag with a curry and plain potato korokke now in her hands. Plus, there was an extra one, a sweet kabocha, for –as the fry lady put it- her favorite redheaded couple to share. Orihime had blushed and stammered while Ichigo paid for their snack, not even bothering to correct the woman's misunderstanding. Couple? People thought they were a couple?

Yes, it was true that over the years the two of them naturally gravitated towards each other until they were together more often than not. But that didn't mean they were dating, did it? Ugh! This was all so confusing.

There was only one way to know for certain.

Just ask.

"Umm, Kurosaki-kun?"

"What's wrong?"

She gave a tiny shake of head, letting him know there wasn't a problem. "Earlier, you said …" Orihime could feel her cheeks flush with hot color and she glanced to the side, watching store fronts pass by before gathering her courage and casually asking. "This girlfriend you don't want giving out her number, w-who is it?"

Ichigo's incredulous look clearly asked if she was serious, and Orihime flushed even brighter in embarrassment and ducked her head, hiding behind her hair. Clearing his throat, he looked forward once more, a dull blush staining his cheeks.

"Tch, who else would I be talking about except for you?"

Orihime shrugged her shoulders after a moment, feeling her heart leap in her chest at his definite answer. "Just checking." She murmured with a small smile. She would say something to him later about his assumptions. A girl does like to be asked out after all. But for now, Orihime felt like squealing as a thought came to her. If she was his girlfriend, didn't that make him her boyfriend?

Her smile grew as she peeked up at Ichigo before gradually closing the gap that had always –until this moment- remained between them.

_Sorry Tatsuki-chan, but I only date guys whose name is Ichigo Kurosaki._

**~o0o~**

A/N: Yes, I too am starting a drabble series. I have one that goes by the same name on my lj for some time now, but since several of you thought I was dead, I thought maybe I should share the ichihime love here on ffnet too. This short was just something random that popped into my head and I had to write it out. Could I see Ichigo acting like this? Possibly. It was fun to explore anyway.

And yes before anyone asks, I am working on my other updates, most especially the slave one, when I have time. I know some of you are getting impatient, and I'm trying to get it to you as quickly as possible. Honestly I am. XD

Thanks for reading. ~Rairakku


	2. Chapter 2

_**Mr. Understood**_

Bleach; Ichihime

Word count: 1958

Warning: Some crack, a bit of randomness, plus a little T+ action stirred together for you to enjoy.

Disclaimer: all characters herein are the property of Kubo Tite.

* I've had this drabble (plus another one) uploaded for three weeks now but still hadn't posted them. (^_^') I'm such a hopeless wuss sometimes.

.

.

What if …Orihime rushed/jumped/leapt to the wrong conclusion?

**~o0o~**

The school library was hushed, filled with only a handful of students as late afternoon shadows stretched across the floor. Grumbling under his breath, Ichigo sat alone at a table and ruthlessly marked through a section he wrote on the trade ministry. It was all redundant information and he was happy to have caught it, but that didn't improve his mood any. He put a lot of time into those useless paragraphs.

Although, if he was honest, the real reason he was on edge was that summer break was just around the corner. He only had to complete this paper and get through finals next week. Then he would be free for a little over a month. It was ridiculous how much he was looking forward to it too.

And that's why he should be studying.

Ichigo did not want to be stuck taking remedial classes over break while his friends hit the beach and attended the fireworks festival without him. It was their last summer together before future plans pulled them in different directions. Resting his chin on his palm, he idly tapped his pen against his notebook and wondered if Orihime would wear a yukata to the festival this year or not.

_Focus._

Shaking his head, Ichigo banished that thought to the back of his mind where it belonged. Orihime was his friend, dammit. It shouldn't matter to him what she wore, even though he did approve of the thigh-high stockings she had taken to wearing with her school uniform.

_Focus!_

His finger stabbed the open book in front of him before moving down the page with single-minded intensity. There, The Sino-_Japanese trade_ agreement and the subsequent memorandums. He wrote down the information he needed, concentrating on the work at hand. Focus on trade history and growth, not bikinis and yukatas. He could do this. Turning to the next clean page, Ichigo lifted his pen as a small piece of paper fell out from between the pages of his notebook and fluttered to the floor.

_Section D, row 12; Bed of Thorns_

Oh geez. He rolled his eyes and picked up the slip of paper. Yet another example of Keigo's peculiar brand of insanity. His friend practically skipped into class this morning and stuffed that paper into his hand, promising that he'd get a laugh out of it. As if he had time to go on a scavenger hunt for some weird book, especially one that Keigo approved of. Cramming the paper in his pocket, he returned to his work, putting section D, row 12 out of his mind.

Throwing down his pen after what felt like hours, Ichigo leaned his elbows on the table and stared down at his resource page in frustration. Dammit. He needed to cite one more source.

Shoving back from the table, his eyes flicked over the few other occupants of the library before he stalked to the non-fiction section. Entering the shadowy warren of shelves at the back of the room, he crammed his hands into his pockets, determined to grab a book he returned earlier and finally be done with this project.

Or that was the plan if not for that small piece of paper in his pocket.

The rounded spines of the library books passed smoothly beneath his finger as Ichigo searched for the title Keigo wrote down. Why he was even humoring him? He should be two rows over, looking for the resource to complete his paper not hunting for what will likely turn out to be some lame comic book or racy girly magazine.

Wrong on both counts.

His eyes widened as he pulled the aforementioned book, Bed of Thorns, from the shelf and stared at the glossy cover. It couldn't be. He glanced shyly from side to side, making certain no one else ventured to this quiet corner before cracking it open. And then promptly slammed it shut. It was! Why in the hell was there hardcore yaoi in the school's library?

With the sound of his heart hammering in his ears, curiosity got the better of him and Ichigo turned the volume over in his hand looking for the library tag. Finding none, he realized this had to be someone's idea of a bad joke hiding such a dirty book on the school's shelves. Might even be Keigo's doing. It did sound like something his friend would pull and think it was hilarious.

The only thing that made it somewhat funny to Ichigo was that one of the characters on the cover resembled Byakuya, just a more effeminate and bishōunen version of the 6th division captain. Laughing awkwardly under his breath at the thought of Rukia's notoriously uptight brother ever starring in such a publication, Ichigo turned to a page in the middle and winced. "Damn, that has got to hurt."

"Kurosaki-kun?"

_Oh, fuck! _

Orihime laughed, sounding pleased for surprising him, and stretched up on her tiptoes to see over his hunched shoulders. "Oh, you're reading …porn. And boy love at that."

Ichigo jerked upright, his cheeks burning with shame.

"That explains so much." Orihime murmured with a small sage nod and rocked back on her feet.

He crammed the book back on the shelves and hesitantly turned to face his friend while trying to make sense of what Orihime just said. "W-what?"

Unable to meet his eye, she licked her lips and shifted from foot to foot, obviously regretting disturbing him. "It's been whispered for some time now that you're …" Orihime's small hands swirled through the air in an indistinct pattern. "Well, that you're still in denial." She explained delicately.

Denial? What was he supposedly denying? "Huh?"

Orihime crossed her arms and tilted her rounded chin in the air. "I never believed it and even tried to defend you. B-but then everyone told me I was in denial, too." She said with a moue of distaste.

Ichigo was sure his face was frozen in a mask of absolute horror. She couldn't mean what he thought. She did. He could tell by the uncomfortable look in her eye.

"Inoue, I'm not …" _Damn. Damn. Damn._ He couldn't even say it. Orihime –of all people- though he was a closet case? What kind of nightmare was this? This couldn't be happening. "I'm most definitely not-"

She held a hand out to stop him from saying anything more and smiled with gentle understanding. "It's all right, Kurosaki-kun. You don't have to hide it from your friends any longer. We'll support you no matter what."

His eyes darted from side to side, looking for any possible eavesdroppers before he whispered angrily. "I'm not gay."

Orihime sighed and gave him a tender look. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Be proud." She cheered, squeezing his forearm supportively.

He looked down at her small hand resting on his muscled arm and swallowed as she continued to try to cheer him up. Orihime would touch him now that she thought he was gay, but not beforehand? What was next, an invite to a sleepover where they could do their nails and talk about boys? How screwed up was this? She was emasculating him, even if only in his imagination.

Ichigo felt like pulling out his hair. He needed to clear up this misunderstanding fast. "Would you just listen to me?"

Orihime slapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, I'm a bit disappointed and rambling." She murmured from behind her fingers before stretching her hand out towards him in supplication. "Oh, but that's my problem, not yours."

Ichigo blew out an exasperated breath and rolled his eyes. He could think of only one solution to shut her up long enough to listen to him. And so he did just that. It was probably the one of the best plans he ever had.

She touched her lips lightly, shocked speechless after he ducked his head and kissed her. Mission accomplished. Ichigo thought, ignoring the wild beating of his heart and tingling lips. Now it was his turn to have his say. "If I was really gay, would I do that?"

Orihime blinked up at him. Her bottom lip trembled and her voice was heartbreakingly forlorn as she whispered, "You don't have to try so hard to be something you're not."

_What?_ He surged forward and took her mouth again. What did it take to convince her? Ichigo wondered as he brushed his lips back and forth over hers until her lips firmed and she hesitantly responded. With effort, he broke away after a few moments. "I only like women, Inoue. One woman to be exact."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "But-"

He stole her words with another kiss before Orihime could contradict him again. Flattening her against the bookcase, his fingers curled around the shelf instead of the woman in front of him. This wasn't the right time or place for this, he thought even as his tongue flicked across the seam of her mouth, begging for entrance. They were in the school library for heaven's sake. But now that he had started kissing her, he couldn't stop. She was so sweet, addicting. And he'd wanted to do this for far too long.

Gasping for breath, Orihime's hand scrambled along the shelf behind her for support before brushing against Ichigo's clenched fist. She snatched her hand back as if burned and clutched it to her heaving chest. A sensual shiver wracked her slender frame and she looked anywhere but up into Ichigo's darkly smoldering eyes. "W-who is this woman you like?"

Groaning, his lips ghosted over hers. Wasn't he being clear enough? "You tell me."

"T-tatsuki-chan?" she squeaked faintly.

"Wrong." His words whispered tauntingly over her damp lips before Ichigo claimed her mouth yet again and encouraged her to open to him. Swirling his tongue around hers, his hands clenched and unclenched, yearning to reach out and run his fingers over Orihime's silky looking skin, through her hair, along her curves. _Slow down, dummy._ Just what did he think he was doing? Their lips broke contact and he groaned. "Try again."

Humming, she dipped her head back as Ichigo scattered feather-light kisses over her flushed cheek. "It's not Kuchiki-san, is it?" she murmured curiously.

"No." He whispered in her ear. She shivered once more within the cage of his arms, mewling helplessly as his hot breath brushed over her sensitive skin.

And his control snapped.

Ichigo threaded his fingers through her long hair. He just had to touch her, to fill his hands with her sweetly complaint body before one of them regained their senses and put an end to this. Tilting her head further back, his mouth came down and met hers without prelude. His kiss was rough, demanding, but Orihime didn't draw away. Instead, her lips parted readily and she met him with an eagerness that surprised them both. Their tongues tangled, tasting and teasing, until she pushed away, gasping.

"A-are you going to keep kissing me until I guess correctly?"

His eyes moved over her flushed face and glistening lips, and Ichigo felt a rush of desire for this woman along with an undeniable sense of rightness. Whoever said they couldn't be more than friends? "Yeah, I think I will."

"Oh." She breathed out before peeking up at him through her lashes. "A-and you're sure you're not gay?"

"Positive."

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "That's good." She murmured as her eyes shyly lifted to meet his and her hand slid up his chest to curl around his neck. Ichigo grinned in return and leaned in for another kiss. But before their lips touched, Orihime blurted out. "Isshin-san owes me 500 yen then."

"Yeah, I guess he-" Ichigo's eyes snapped open. "Huh …wait what?"

**~o0o~**

A/N: I have no explanation for this one. It's just something that came from the scary depths of my subconscious mind. Yeah, it was totally a dream and not meant to be taken seriously. These drabbles are only for fun and to provide me with a momentary escape from the stress and demands of RL.

A big thank you goes out to everyone who read, reviewed, favorite, alerted, and/or glanced at the first drabble. You people are seriously the greatest. ;A; Next up, a future family one. I'll post it soon. Now, back to working on my slave fic. I really want to finish that update this weekend. Wish me luck.

Thanks for reading. ~Rairakku


	3. Chapter 3

_**Stinky Girls**_

Bleach; Ichihime

Word Count: 1210

Warning: K; family fluffiness

Disclaimer: all characters herein (aside from the little ones) belong to Kubo Tite. Although, he is free to use them in a future storyline. *make it happen Kubo*

What if …Ichigo tried to avoid his responsibilities?

**~o0o~**

The house was unnaturally quiet.

This normally would be cause for concern, but at the moment Ichigo was feeling much too lazy to care. If the roof were to fall in, a fire flare up or if masked ninja pandas broke in, then he might think about getting up.

Well, if the house collapsed and there was a fire, of course he'd move, but the pandas …

_Mehh, _he'd just let Orihime square off against the pandas. She could take them on. Especially since, they were only a product of her overly fertile imagination and one of her newest illustrations for work.

Although, this last week had been terribly busy with no time to work on her project, or much of anything else. Pandas, even ninja ones, weren't high on her priority list right now. However, curling up on the couch and using his chest as a pillow was of utmost importance to her, and to him. Quiet was a precious commodity in this house these days and he was going to enjoy every second while it lasted and catch a quick nap too.

Carefully shifting Orihime onto his lap, he lazily rubbed his chin over her silky hair, as she lay boneless in his arms, another victim of absolute exhaustion. Ichigo shoved a stuffed toy and book off the edge and gradually slipped to the side until his head hit the armrest and he cradled his wife's curvy body against his.

The perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Feeling sleep call his name, his eyes drifted shut. However, the sudden cry coming from down the hall seemed to be calling his name too. And quite loudly at that. Snapping his eyes open at the distressed sound, Ichigo moved at the same time Orihime sat up. The top of her head connected with the underside of his chin, causing him to see stars on a clear afternoon.

Orihime shook her head and blinked blearily. "She's crying again. It seems like I just got her to sleep, too." Pushing off her comfortable perch, she furrowed her brows in concern. "I wonder why is she's crying?"

"Don't know." Ichigo grumbled, nursing his aching chin. "Sit tight, I'll go see."

"No, you stay put." Orihime responded firmly as she reached out to gently caress his chin in apology. Coming to her feet, her arm shot up with her finger pointing resolutely in the air, "It's my job as a mother to comfort my children and protect them from evil hollow invaders."

It was both their job, but he wasn't going to ruin enthusiastic proclamation by reminding her of that. "Uh huh, you do that. Go kick some arrancar ass, sweetheart." He grinned lopsidedly at her as she hurried down the hall to their room.

"Daaaaad"

His son's uncharacteristic whining broke through his pleasant daydreams and Ichigo pulled his eyes from his wife's beautiful form to glance at his oldest. "What's wrong?" he mumbled with a yawn as he fully sat up.

Katsuro smiled worshipfully up at his mom when she ruffled his brightly colored hair as she passed by before walking across the room. Pulling himself up on the couch next to his dad, he sat back and muttered, "Girls stink."

"What?"

Popping up from who knows where, his second son crawled over the arm of the couch and wiggled across the leather cushions on his stomach. "They do, Dad. They smell."

"What would you do if your mother heard you say that? She's a girl too, you know." Ichigo replied dryly as he roughly rubbed both their heads.

"Mom's not a girl." Seiji stated with the utmost confidence of a four -going on five- year old. "She's a mom."

"That cry baby you brought home is a girl." Katsuro grumbled under his breath as he crossed his thin arms over his chest before asking, "Can't you bring her back?"

Grinning at each other in perfect accord, the boys looked up at their father, both sporting angelic smiles reminiscent of their mother as they pleaded. "Pleeeeease?"

He blew out an exasperated breath before giving his sons a stern look. "Seiji, Katsuro, that is no way to talk about your sister."

"Ichigo, I found out why Miyako is crying."

He looked up as Orihime returned, carrying his beautiful black haired daughter in her arms. Ichigo watched as his wife carefully arranged the blanket around the fussy baby, holding her wobbly head steady while Miyako chewed hungrily on her tiny fist.

"Do you want to change her?"

It suddenly made perfect sense. "Stinky girl?" he murmured questioningly out of the corner of his mouth while Seiji scrambled over the edge of the couch, hiding behind the cushioned arm.

"Uh huh, real stinky." Katsuro answered, equally quiet as he squirmed down, trying to get away from the g-i-r-l.

Kneading the back of his neck, he sent his wife a lame smile, figuring in this instance, retreat was the greater part of valor. "Um, I was just thinking about taking the boys to the park. You know, before it gets too late." Ichigo stammered out awkwardly as he stood.

"Yeah, please Mom? No stinky girls there." Katsuro muttered the last with a frown, not quite able to meet his mother's sparking eyes.

"Alright boys," she smiled at her trio of orange tops in turn before granting them the permission that they all so desired, "go have fun."

"Yay, the park." Seiji cheered as he followed his brother to the entry and searched for his shoes.

Feeling suddenly guilty, Ichigo realized that Orihime had just given birth a little over a week ago and here he was running from his responsibilities. There were still boxes from their move to unpack, dishes from lunch needed washed, and a little girl wanted changed and fed.

_Damn …_

He knew Orihime didn't hold his aversion to changing stinky diapers against him. However, he never intended to bail and leave all the dirty work to her, either. Time to man up. Ichigo held out his arms. "Here, give her to me."

Laughing, Orihime smiled softly at her husband, already knowing what he was thinking. She gently rubbed Miyako's tiny back and tilted her head towards the front door. "You'd better hurry, Ichigo. You're about to be left behind." She teased before heading to the changing table in the corner of the room.

"Huh?"

"Race you, Seiji!"

"No fair, you got a head start."

"Boys, get back here this instant!" Ichigo bellowed as he chased them out the door, hopping from foot to foot as he pulled on his shoes. Catching up with them before they reached the front gate, he gave them a warning look that promised if they didn't calm down and wait for him they'd just stay home.

With a small hand now clasped in each of his, he walked down the street, Seiji on one side and Katsuro on the other. Ichigo listened as the boys planned their afternoon's wild adventures and rolled his eyes. Changing Miyako's pants would have been easier than trying to keep up with his energetic and trouble seeking sons. Especially since, he knew for a fact that his baby girl didn't sink.

And Ichigo wasn't going to let anyone tell him any different.

**~o0o~**

A/N: Two updates from me in the same week? That's simply unheard of! I kind of cheated though, I wrote this short, along with several other family fics, possibly two years ago. It still doesn't change the fact that I think Ichigo will be a phenomenal dad someday. They'll both be great parents, but I do believe that Ichigo will be a big softy when it comes to his kids.

Thank you so much for reading, alerting, adding to favorites, and most definitely taking the time to review. *glomps everyone* I'm so happy that you're enjoying these shorts. ~Rairakku


	4. Chapter 4

_**Love Lies Bleeding**_

Bleach; Ichihime short

Word Count: 465

Warning: T+; character death

Disclaimer: all characters herein belong to Kubo Tite.

What if ...Ichigo was living a nightmare?

**~o0o~**

You're running until your lungs feel like they will burst. The long hallway stretches its arms out wide, confusing you as to what direction to take. There, you can sense her. A turn to the left and you're running once more.

You smell it long before you see it. But once you've seen it, it can't be unseen. It is branded on your retinas. Burned into your brain. Imprinted on your very soul.

The sickly sweet scent.

The darkly ominous spreading stain.

And a silky flag of red hair swings in the breeze as Orihime slides off the sword impaled through her chest.

You're mouth opens in a wordless bellow as she falls, seemingly in slow motion.

Crumbling.

Tumbling.

Crashing.

And your inner world follows suit.

Crumbling.

Tumbling.

Crashing.

Until nothing is left inside you but rubble.

Your yells continue unabated, strident, fearful, pained as you surge forward, catching her slight frame before it touches the stained ground. Blocking the severity of her wound from your mind, you whisper soothing reassurance. They're a waste of breath, nothing but worthless phrases. Something to keep reality at bay.

You hold her tight, clenching stiff brittle fingers in the white fabric at her waist, afraid, terrified to let go. She gazes up at you through pain-filled eyes as tears stream over pale porcelain cheeks to mix with the blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. Her lips move and you strain to hear, wanting, needing, craving, the sweet sound of her voice. But you are denied those precious final words as she breathes her last.

Murmurs of disbelief change to bargaining and pleading before a harsh demanding curse slips out under your breath. This can't be real. You repeat in your mind. But the truth is staring you straight in the face through a pair of blank unseeing eyes.

It can't be real.

But it is.

And you failed.

An agonized scream is ripped from your throat as you crush her cooling body to your chest, cradling her, as if Orihime was the wounded animal and not yourself.

Dead.

Her vibrant hair spills over your hand, your arm, your thigh and touches the filthy floor.

She's dead.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, hoping wishing, dreaming that this isn't how she meets her end with so much left unsaid.

Orihime's dead.

Your lips brush against her waxen cheek as tears begin to fall.

And you open your eyes to see her through the darkness as her fingers gently brush against your damp cheek. Grabbing her warm hand in one of yours, you press a heated kiss to the center of her palm as your heartbeat slows. You are safe in your bed with Orihime beside you, alive and well, as she helps you battle your nightmares once again.

**~o0o~**

**A/N: **Just posting something super quick for 11/11/11 before I have to dart out the door. It's not what I intended; I actually planned to write porn ...but ended up with tragedy. Go figure.

Thanks for reading. ~Rairakku


	5. Chapter 5

**Constant Source of Encouragement**

Bleach; IchiHime

Word Count: 817

Warning: implied intimacy only; I leave it up to your own interpretation as to what they actually did

Disclaimer: All characters herein belong to Kubo Tite.

Inspired by: Nekosaiko's lovely sketch that was inspired by the 4th Bleach movie, Hell Verse.

Her art can be viewed/favorite/loved/appreciated here (remove spaces) http:/ nekosaiko. deviantart. com/ art/ Somethin-like-this- 188800589

* What if …a hug could heal?

**~o0o~  
><strong>

The room was dark, shrouded in shadows, the air heavy with regret. He couldn't bring himself to stir from the couch and flip a switch. And so he sat in the gloom, stewing in recriminations and guilt, tearing himself to shreds.

The almost soundless shuffle of socked feet descending the staircase had him lifting his head. His stomach clenched as she stepped to the room. He stood, restless and edgy, unable to remain sitting while she gazed at him with such soft compassionate eyes. Where was the condemnation; the disappointed look of reproach?

Silence dragged out between them; neither knowing what to say. Their eyes would meet, hold for a second in expectation of words being spoken, and then dart off to the side when nothing was said to break this stalemate. He rubbed the back of his neck. She twisted her fingers. And the silence grew louder, oppressive, suffocating.

Gathering her courage, she clasped her hands together and finally looked him straight in the eye. "You're going back, aren't you?"

She didn't come right out and say back through the ominous gates, back to the depths of hell. She didn't need to; he knew what she meant.

Their standoff broken by her question, all his nervous angry emotions rushed to the fore again. His mouth was a thin hard line as he stalked past her to the kitchen. "I have to go." He would not abandon Rukia, Renji, and Uryuu. Not after everything they did-

He froze, eyes widening in shock as she pressed her forehead to the center of his back. Wha …what she was doing?

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as her hot breath rushed along his spine. "Promise me …"

She paused. He could feel her breathing against his back, the lift and fall of her chest. She released her grip on his shirt and slid an arm around him.

Ichigo swallowed as her thin body came fully against his. "P-promise you what, Inoue?"

"That you'll come home safely."

His eyes closed and the corners of his mouth curled. It was an order. One couched in hesitant dulcet tones and disguised as a promise, but an order nonetheless. She wasn't asking him to save their friends and come home safe; she was telling him to do so. That she believed he could. Ichigo could feel the tension melt away as he lifted a hand to press against the one resting on his abdomen. He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed before stating without a hint of doubt or hesitation. "I promise."

They stood there quietly, hand in hand, letting his vow strengthen their hearts. She saved him once again. Calmed his fears and gave him hope. He turned to face her, his brown gaze intense and blazing with sincerity, and he silently repeated his promise while staring down into her wide trusting eyes.

He would come home safely, to her.

The shadows on the wall clearly showed her hand clasped in his as he drew her unresistingly up the stairs to his room. His door shut behind them. The lock clicked into place, sealing them in and the mad messed up world out, at least for a little while.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Soft evening light filtered in through his curtains and painted a gentle blue band of light over her sleeping face. His arm reflexively tightened around her, bringing her relaxed body even closer to his own.

It was time.

Breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, he watched her for a moment longer, imprinting this scene in his mind before pressing his lips to the top of her head. She would be the image he carried into hell. His pure and shining light. She steadfastly believed in him, in his strength and abilities, and in his promise that he would come back safely with all their friends in tow.

The battle license felt heavy in his hand with the weight of responsibility he carried. He regretted that he had to leave –now of all times, but she understood why he had to go. His friends were depending on him. There were no thoughts of turning back. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his shinigami pass to his chest and with a muted flash of light, his soul separated from his body without disturbing her rest.

Poised at the window with one foot on the sill, he glanced back to see her shift in her sleep. A thin arm snaked out from under the covers to wrap tightly around his body and she quieted.

Face hardening, he jumped from the window to the street below. Ichigo swore to himself that there was no force in hell that could make him break the promise he made tonight.

He would return to be welcomed back by her smile, and be held in her arms once again.

**~o0o~**

A/N: Just a super quick drabble I wrote last May after seeing Nekosaiko's drawing based on the 4th movie (which I still haven't watched -other than the first 5 minutes and various gifs found on tumblr). I found this while digging through my folders looking for Christmas and/or New Years fics to post. I didn't find any decent or easily finished holiday fics, so you got this instead.

I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season and I wish you all the very best in the coming year.

As always, thanks for reading. ~Rairakku


	6. Chapter 6

**Only One Night**

Bleach; Ichihime

Word Count: 2369

Warnings: none

Disclaimer: all characters herein belong to Kubo Tite

In celebration of Tanabata.

Theme: Separation - I know when I leave, the distance will keep us apart. But distance, no matter how far, can't change these feelings in my heart.

**~o0o~**

The small café is set off the beaten path, the patrons are few, but Orihime sits at a table alone and continues to wait. She fidgets and taps a spoon on the top of the table even as her eyes lift to look out the front window for like the sixtieth time. Her first trip to Karakura after five long months isn't going at all according to plan.

For one, she was almost forty minutes late to the start of Tatsuki's karate match after missing her connecting train. She took the day off from work –and ignored her studies, to come cheer her best friend on in her final division bout. Then, to miss the first match –it was such a terrible thing to do seeing as it's the only reason she even came back. That's what she told herself anyway. Until she breathlessly arrived just as Ichigo was leaving the competition for work. And as disappointment coiled in the pit of her stomach, she sent him off with a smile and admitted –at least to herself, he's also part of the reason she made the trip back.

Things didn't go much better after that. Michiru had to leave, Mahana had a date, Chizuru's girlfriend got bored, and Tatsuki sprained her ankle –but still won her final match and advanced to the next stage. However, when it was all said and done, there were only the seven of them left to go out and celebrate. Tatsuki called Ichigo and passed on their plans. He was still at work but said he should be clocking out soon. A quick trip home to change and he'd meet them at the café –if his dad didn't decide to be a pest. But that was over an hour ago –a lot has happened in that short amount of time.

Enough already, sitting around isn't going to change anything or make him arrive any sooner. Orihime lifts her cup and then quickly changes her mind –her stomach's already queasy without drinking the last ice-cold dregs. Instead, she grabs her receipt from the chipped formica top and queues up to pay, and then she heads for the door.

Stepping outside onto the dimly lit side street, she automatically fans herself with her hand –already missing the air-conditioning inside. The August night is sticky and hot. Thankfully, she is wearing only a lightweight sundress, the only restriction is the jaunty turquoise bow tied under her admittedly large breasts. Even so, it would still be uncomfortable outside tonight without the nice freshening breeze cooling her cheeks.

Orihime smiles sunnily at a passing couple and hikes her leather bag's handles up on her bare shoulder. Time to decide what to do next; she can't continue to stand here. She checks her watch under the streetlight and calculates the time she has left. Less than an hour until the last train leaves. Sighing, she glances to her left. The station is just down the block –but to her right …

In her mind, she can easily see the route she'd need to take to get to Ichigo's house. It wasn't too far, maybe half an hour –if she walks fast.

She pushes her long windblown hair back as her eyes, then her feet, unerringly turn to the right. Should she go without calling –what if he's not even home? Undecided, she sits on the low wall between the coffee shop and the building next door with her knees together while her antsy feet spread apart. Pointing her toes, her canvas shoes rock back and forth against the concrete as she hunches over the small phone she dug out of her bag.

She calls up his number –only to snap it closed a second later as she argues with herself. Call him –text –or just go to his house? Ugh. She was a grown woman, not the indecisive teen she used to be. Orihime mutters under her breath and opens her phone –seriously this time. Just call him. Her finger just barely grazes the button for speed dial as a shadow falls over her, blocking the streetlight.

Her eyes flick upwards to see what it is –and she snaps upright, her feet smack flat on the ground.

"Hey, did everyone else leave already?" Ichigo asks and drops beside her, gasping.

"You showed up." She stares at him in surprise, noticing the sweat that darkens his bright orange hair also runs down his flushed cheek. His chest heaves as he pulls in one deep breath after another. Did he run all the way here? She goggles. It has to be well over two miles from his house.

"Of course I did." He tilts his head and gives her a look as if any other answer is unthinkable, and she's confused for a second thinking he just read her mind. "Sorry, I'm late, but I thought Tatsuki said we were all going out for drinks –or karaoke –or something?"

Ichigo swipes the sweat from his face and neck with the hem of his shirt and her eyes drop to the tempting strip of exposed tan skin showing above his jean's waistband. Catching herself, Orihime forces her gaze aside to drop her phone in her bag and pulls out the handkerchief she carries. She scolds him sweetly and presses it into the palm of his hand when he tries to refuse. His fingers close over hers with a murmur of thanks. Her fingers tingle from the unexpected contact and she pulls away with obvious reluctance.

Her cheeks heat as she tries to remember exactly what they were talking about –a simple touch and she's completely flustered. Ichigo didn't mean to discompose her. It was obvious in the way he took no notice of her heightened response and instead smirked at her silly handkerchief printed with smiling cartoon foods. Seeing that helped her regain her emotional footing and pick up their conversation from where it left off.

"Yes, we were going to go out, but Tatsuki was exhausted –and rightly so. Then Sado-kun got called-in to work, and Ishida-kun has some tasks to take care of first thing in the morning." She shrugs her shoulders. "Everyone else just drifted away for some reason or another after that."

"Oh well, their loss." Ichigo tucks her handkerchief into his pocket –after first assuring her he'd return it once it is cleaned. "There's nothing saying we still can't do something." He scratches his cheek as a blush spreads from his face to the tips of his ears. "You know –if you're willing."

Oh no, he didn't just ask her that.

She tries to keep her lips from wobbling as she gives him an apologetic smile. "I'd like to." Her stomach twists into a sharp knot. After all this time, Ichigo finally asks her to go with him somewhere alone –and she has no choice but to refuse, "I'm sorry, but I don't have much time before the trains stop running."

His shoulders drop. "Oh." He says softly, investing so much significance in that single word.

He seems disappointed –which is probably only wishful thinking on her part. Never mind that, Orihime scolds herself even as her eyes light up. There was a reason she wanted to see him. She has something that just might cheer him up. "I'm happy to see you before I leave. I was actually thinking about stopping at your house ...," She murmurs as she leans down to dig through the leather bag at her feet.

"Why's that?"

With both hands, she holds out a thin white box tied with a lopsided red bow. "It's not much –and it's late, but –happy birthday."

He slowly reaches for the gift, a bemused smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "You didn't have to get me anything." He says in all seriousness even as he tugs the ribbon loose.

The breeze threatens to snatch the ribbon away and Ichigo places it in her waiting hand before opening his gift. Her heart beats a nervous rhythm as he carefully lifts the engraved dog tags from the box. His long fingers trace over the laser etched 15 and the second bearing his name and birth date in stylized kanji.

Feeling breathless from the gentle way he handles her gift, she presses her fingertips to her tight chest and licks her lips. "I wanted to be here for your birthday but …"

He shakes his head. "Hey, it's all right. At least you made it home for today." He says easily while slipping the sliver chain over his head.

"Home?" When did she stop thinking of Karakura as home?

He shakes his head at her questioning tone and taps her on the top of the head with the empty box. "Yes, home, your home –the place you belong."

It didn't hurt, not even a bit, but Orihime still rubs the spot as she quietly absorbs his words. Home. This is still her home. Once school is over she could always come back to be close to the people she misses –the people she loves.

"Tatsuki did yell at me for being away for so long." She pulls her eyes from watching the few pedestrians queuing at the light to meet his. "I really should visit more –will visit more." She says with a decisive nod. It wasn't far –a couple hour train ride at the most.

His shoulder lifts in a negligent shrug. "We could always visit you too."

"We?"

"Well yeah," he rubs back of neck and his voice lowers to almost a whisper. "Tatsuki isn't the only one who misses you –all your friends do."

Her breath catches in her throat; there's a look in his eyes she's not seen before. The breeze lifts and tangles her hair, blowing long auburn strands across her face. But she takes no notice; she's shaking, trembling, lost in the brown of his warm gaze. "Even you?"

Reaching out, Ichigo catches the windblown strand of hair dancing against her cheek and tucks it behind her ear. As he withdraws his hand, his fingers caress the shell of her ear. "Yeah, me too." He says, his knuckles brushing her cheek as he lowers his hand. Their gazes hold –undisturbed by the noise of traffic or people walking nearby. Until she draws in a shaky breath and looks down, her heart pounding, and he looks away.

Clearing her throat, she threads her hand through the handles of her bag and jumps to her feet. "I –I should probably go before –you know."

"Before the trains stop." He finishes for her with a frown. Ichigo stands as well and scuffs his foot against the concrete. "I understand."

"Well then," she pauses, her voice sounds wobbly even to her own ears. She takes a breath and tries to inject some of the cheerfulness she's well known for and says with a smile, "I'll see you later then?"

He looks up; his mouth compressed into a thin line. His eyes move from her hair, her eyes, her lips, and his expression relaxes, "Yeah, later –and thanks." He taps his index finger against his chest where her gift lay.

Her gaze lingers on the silver tags nestled in the V of his shirt before blinking away her wandering thoughts. She smiles and nods in reply.

With no further reasons to stall, her hand lifts of its own accord to give a tiny wave goodbye. He mirrors her farewell and she hitches her purse's straps up on her shoulder, curling her trembling fingers around the thick leather handles, and then quickly turns away.

Her shoes tap against the pavement in quick staccato beats. She'll be fine once she boards the train and is on her way. It is a lie, but it didn't matter –she is well-practiced in lying to herself. She ducks her head, her hair falling forward to shield her face. She could lie and pretend everything's fine, but she can't ignore the ache in her chest. It hurt physically to leave him this time.

Her steps slow. Doesn't it ever get any easier? She drifts to the side as a giggling group of high school girls trot past, and she overhears them talk about an orange haired hottie –and how it's too bad he looks upset. Were they talking about Ichigo? Maybe –like her, he didn't want this night to ever end. Wavering, she glances back –and her heart trips. He is still where she left him. With his shoulder propped against the wall, standing in a pool of golden light, he watches her.

And the pain of leaving him simply becomes too much.

Always alert, he pushes himself upright. "What's wrong?" He asks and takes a step in her direction.

She turns to face him fully, her chest tight with nervous emotion. Be brave. She slowly lifts her eyes to his, her fingertips steepled in front of her chest. "I –I can always catch one of the first trains in the morning."

His brows arch up in surprise before he looks to the side, a blush staining his cheeks. "You don't have to do that on my account."

She shuffles her feet; she can't keep still. "I know." She answers simply; she's not doing this only for him, but her own selfish reasons.

His eyes flick back to hers as if gauging her sincerity, and then he takes another quick step forward –almost as if he can't stop himself. "Are you sure?"

She nods. "I want to enjoy the time I have here –with you." She says with a bright smile and the corner of Ichigo's mouth kicks up in a grin as she closes the distance between them with hurried steps.

Holding out a hand, "Come on then." he says, his posture relaxed, brows unfurrowed, eyes gentle.

"Where to?" she asks a bit breathlessly as Ichigo's hand closes around her forearm, steadying her.

"Does it matter?" His long fingers slide down her arm to tangle with hers. "It's only one night, let's not waste a minute."

And as they set off into the dark on their impulsive adventure, Orihime knows in her heart that this will always be a night to remember.

**~o0o~**

A/N: Just a little something I wrote for Tanabata. As always, thanks for reading. -Rairakku


	7. Chapter 7

**Spoken in Haste**

Bleach; IchiHime

Word Count: 815

Warning: mild cursing

Disclaimer: all characters belong to Kubo Tite, except for the small one

*The following flash fic was originally posted to my Tumblr several months ago. So if you've already read this one, I'm sorry. However, there will be at least two new flash fics being posted to this shorts collection within the next day or two.

.

What if ...there was a fight Ichigo couldn't win?

.

**~o0o~**

"I want you to stay home this time."

Oh damn. Ichigo rubbed a hand over his mouth, wishing his could snatch back what he just said. It was an accident; it just slipped out. And who could blame him? Orihime took him by complete surprise when she announced that she also planned to come along when Urahara opened the gate to the Soul Society tomorrow.

Orihime didn't say anything in reply or give him any reason to suspect she was upset. However, Ichigo knew simply by the way she nodded and turned back to the counter to continue cutting up vegetables for supper that his words hurt her feelings.

After a tense moment of silence, Orihime glanced over her shoulder and asked for a bowl from the top shelf of the cabinet. Quick to do as she asked, he retrieved the bowl in question and handed it off with a lopsided smile, hoping to be forgiven for his thoughtless words. She took it from him with a sunny smile of thanks and –thankfully, restarted their conversation on a new topic –one that had nothing to do with Urahara, the Soul Society and their recent spate of problems in the least.

The remainder of the evening passed much like usual, their prior discussion all but forgotten. Instead, they talked about their respective day during the meal and clean up before they curled up on the couch to watch the nightly variety shows.

And through it all, Ichigo couldn't relax.

His palms were sweaty and his stomach churned as if supper didn't agree with him. It wasn't Orihime's cooking that was causing the problem, but his own guilty conscience. He watched Orihime from the corner of his eye while she laughed along with the TV audience. It wasn't like her to submit quietly to his demands -at least not without asking for a logical reason as to why. All he could do was wait and wonder when the other shoe would drop.

Finally, feeling wretched with guilt, Ichigo faced her to apologize when he felt it –a ripple in the boundary between the spiritual world and the physical one. A hollow. He was on his feet in an instant, his hand already sliding into his back pocket for his representative badge when …

"Daddy, read me the bunny book."

His eyes dropped to the tiny redhead sitting in a nest of colorful pillows on the floor. Melting big brown eyes stared up at him as his daughter held out her cherished storybook in his direction.

"Please?"

"Umm …" he tripped over his words, searching for an excuse, until his eyes landed on his wife. "What if mommy reads it to you tonight? Daddy needs to …"

Orihime held out a hand to interrupt. "It's all right, I'll go," she said as she moved with quiet purpose towards the front door.

"What?" He demanded in shock.

She glanced up from slipping on her shoes and Ichigo froze. "I want you to stay home this time." Orihime said in a honeyed voice that would make Rukia proud, and his jaw dropped.

Ichigo stared as she patted their daughter on the head, telling her she would be right back, and his stomach lurched once more. That wasn't fair. She couldn't throw his words back at him like that and expect him to take it quietly. "Orihime, we should talk about this, I think I should be the one-" His voice shriveled and died in his throat at the narrow-eyed look she shot him from across the room.

She wasn't mad –not yet anyway, but she was serious.

So he stood there, with their three year old daughter in his arms, and watched his wife slip out the door alone and into the night to face an unknown –and quite possibly dangerous fight.

After first reading Miyako's bunny book four times in a row until she fell asleep, he paced their small apartment, only stopping long enough to track Orihime's reiatsu from time to time –give or take every minute and thirty seconds. This really wasn't fair -this waiting at home, not knowing what was happening, worrying.

Oh.

Ichigo came to a stop and grumbled under his breath –well aware he was the one in the wrong this time. Sighing, he knew exactly what he needed to do to make amends and reached for the phone the moment he felt Orihime's spirit pressure turn towards home.

While he made the call to his dad asking him to babysit, along with arranging for Karin to pick up their mail for the next several days, Ichigo complained to himself that there's no way this could be a fair fight. Yes, Orihime had every right to be mad –they were partners, a team, but she really could have picked a different -and safer method to prove her point to his way of thinking.

**~o0o~**

A/N: In an effort to gather all my writing in one place I'll be moving IH fics from my Tumblr to here in the next several days.

As always, thanks for reading. ~Rairakku


	8. Chapter 8

**Delayed Departure**

Bleach; Ichihime

Word Count: 3231

Warnings: minor cursing

Disclaimer: all characters herein are the property of Kubo Tite

.

What if ...they only needed to practice a little honest communication?

**~o0o~**

It was almost time.

Only a few minutes more and the gate to the Soul Society would be complete. Under the muted glow of a nearby streetlight, Orihime stood off to the side of the preparations, unneeded, but still waiting for the coming event. Her fingers twisted around each other before she caught herself and clenched them in the fabric of her skirt. Sighing, she glanced over her shoulder at the house where she knew Ichigo was saying a private goodbye to his family.

"Are you doing all right?"

She turned in surprise to see Chad step out of the shadows beside her, his face drawn with concern under his shaggy mop of hair. She simply nodded, her lips lifting into what should have been a reassuring smile –instead of what she was certain was a pained grimace.

"You're not going to say anything to him, are you?"

Blinking, she shifted uneasily as Uryuu came to stand beside Chad. Jinta shouted in surprise from somewhere behind her, and Orihime turned away with a sense of relief, escaping from Uryuu's unnerving look of both pity and concern. She watched as Tessia dangled Jinta several feet above the ground for picking on Ururu yet again and thought on how to answer her friend.

"I've already told Kurosaki-kun goodbye." She said after a moment, keeping her back to them. What else could she say? The Soul Society offered Ichigo a ranked position, one he accepted without hesitation. Even though her heart was in her throat, she was helpless to stop him from leaving. This was what he wanted after all.

"You won't tell the fool you're in love with him before he leaves?" Uryuu demanded and Chad grunted in wordless agreement.

Orihime dropped her chin to her chest and hid her expression behind a thick fall of hair. She should have expected her friends to realize her feelings for the substitute shinigami. It wasn't as if she tried hard to hide them, she just hadn't expected them to bring them up.

"Inoue-san?" Uryuu urged.

Orihime shook her head from side to side in response to his earlier question. It was time she let go. She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself both literally and figuratively as a blast of wind rushed against her back. "This is his choice and I support his decision. No matter where he is, as long as Kurosaki-kun is happy, then I'm …" she swallowed thickly as sudden tears clogged her throat.

"If I'm happy, then you're what?"

Her heart tripped dangerously in her chest at the sound of Ichigo's quiet voice coming from behind her. So lost in her thoughts, she didn't even sense him approach. Steady. Now was not the time to fall apart. "If you're happy, then I'm happy too." She said -only to ruin her brave declaration when her voice broke on the last word.

In the next moment, his hand was on top of her head, tugging her to his chest. The scratchy weave of his shihakusho was rough under her cheek, but that didn't stop her from burying her face in the fabric as she attempted to hold back tears.

The tip of her nose rubbed against his chest, and she breathed in the cologne permeating his clothing. His scent always reminded her of the tang of metal and something spicy. It was comforting, familiar. This might be the last time she'd see him in this lifetime; she wanted to capture the memory and lock it up tight, while he was still here with her.

"Are you ready, Ichigo? Kisuke says it's time."

At Rukia's call, Orihime pulled back in embarrassment, cheeks burning. Ichigo's hand slid along the back of her head to her shoulder before it dropped to his side. He glanced behind him to the now opened gate before looking back at her. He rubbed the back of his neck as a pained look passed over his face. "Inoue, I-"

Not wanting their goodbye to be uncomfortable, she held out her hand and stopped what would likely be an apology. Instead, she forced her lips to lift in a smile, his smile, just as she planned. "This is what you wanted to do, right? So don't make a face like that, be happy." Orihime ordered him with scolding wag of her finger.

Ichigo stared at her, his uncertainty obvious, as Rukia moved to stand beside him. He blew out a haggard breath and nodded in agreement before glancing to Chad and Uryuu. Their goodbyes said, his gaze returned to hers for a charged moment. She held her breath as his eyes searched hers. For what, she didn't know.

After only a few seconds, Ichigo's lips curved upward and he smiled widely. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as he turned to leave. He gave her a murmured "goodbye" from over his shoulder, denying her a last look at his true expression, before he stepped toward the light of the gate.

This was it; he was leaving.

Her stomach lurched and twisted. She couldn't watch anymore. Orihime ducked her head and slipped away without a word. She counted her steps, putting one foot in front of the other. However, it wasn't long before her steps quickened, she lost count, and then, she started to run.

…

He sensed the moment Orihime left and his steps slowed. Ichigo couldn't stop his head from turning; he wanted to see her one last time.

Be happy.

Her words continued to echo in his head. How could he be happy when … His fingers grew lax in sudden realization and his bag slipped from his hand to land on the ground with a thump. His body followed his head's lead and turned away from the glowing white gate.

"Ichigo?" There was tinge of curiosity in Rukia's voice as she called his name, but he ignored his concerned friend. Instead, he fully focused his attention on following that warm thread of reiatsu as it moved further and further away.

Just be happy.

He could feel his resolve strengthening. This was the decision he should have made –the right decision for him. It didn't matter if she reciprocated his feelings; he just wanted to be close to her. The Soul Society would have to find someone else to fill the post.

Chad grinned and gave him a thumbs-up while Uryuu crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, "Took you long enough." He nodded at them both and then, toes digging into the pavement, he took off like a shot.

Rukia watched him leave, a secret smile played over her lips. Grabbing Ichigo's bag from the ground, she tossed it to Chad with the instructions to put it back in the idiot's room. Satisfied with the outcome, Rukia turned and entered the gate alone. She won this bet; Renji now owed her a forfeit.

…

Yuzu wadded a used Kleenex into her fist and peered down at the darkened street from her brother's bedroom window. "What's Ichi-nii doing now?" She asked her twin with a sniff.

"I'm not certain." Karin answered slowly, her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the scene outside. "But he just dropped his duffel …and now he's moving away from the gate."

"He did what?" Isshin jumped up from his seat at Ichigo's desk before rushing to join his daughters at the window.

They'd been over this many times in the last several weeks. Ichigo had been adamant that this was the right thing to do, saying the Soul Society needed him more than anyone in the human world seemed to.

Suddenly, Yuzu shrieked and pointed a shaky finger down at the street. "Orihime-chan is flying!"

All three of them leaned out the open window and stared where, to Yuzu's eyes, the redheaded healer seemed to bounce and soar through the night sky.

Karin slapped her palm against the window's ledge and laughed under her breath about finally being impressed. Seeing Yuzu's worried look, she described to her twin that Orihime wasn't actually flying; their brother had Orihime in his arms and was now flash stepping from the top of one streetlight to the next before they disappeared from their sight.

Isshin fell back with a laugh and sprawled across Ichigo's bed in relief. Well, it seemed as if he finally made up his mind. Although, the idiot did cut it a little too close for comfort. He shoved his son's soulless shell of body from the bed and laughed again as it landed awkwardly on the floor. He knew Ichigo would yell at him –and probably thrash him too, for treating his body so rough, but to his way of thinking, it was well worth it.

His daughters dropped on the bed beside him, their relief evident in the way their bodies sagged against his. Isshin hugged them close. His family was staying together. He predicted nothing but smiles and laughter in their future, especially with the certain addition of a lovely redheaded healer.

…

Ichigo finally came to a stop on top of a light post far from the prying eyes of their friends and his family. Slowly lowering Orihime from his arms, he stabilized the platform of reiatsu under his feet while he searched his mind for what to do now that he had her alone.

Hell, he could barely remember scooping her up in his arms as she raced down the street. He reacted on instinct without giving his situation any conscious thought -at least not until after he already lifted her slender body high against his chest and was miles away from anyone.

Think ...think. He thought of so many things he wanted to tell her while lying in his bed at night. However, during the bright light of day, his mind blanked or he chickened out. But now, Ichigo straightened and drew in a deep breath; there was something he needed to say.

"If you're happy, then I'm happy too." He broke the silence by repeating her words, his eyes serious. "But I can't be happy if you're sad."

"I-I'm not sad, Kurosaki-kun." She stammered before glancing over her shoulder to the distant ground. "I am kind of scared though."

Ichigo arched a brow at her unusual fear of heights. "Why? You're safe; I won't let you fall."

"I know, b-but …"

Not about to let her change the subject, he pressed. "Are you saying that me leaving doesn't make you sad?"

"Of course it makes me sad, I'm going to miss you." She paused to lick her lips, her eyes shifting off to the side, "That's only normal though, right? You're my friend."

"Yeah, it's normal. I guess." Ichigo loosened an arm from around her waist to rub the back of head, kneading the tension building at the base of his skull. Orihime squealed at the loss of support and she grabbed a fistful of his shihakusho. He mumbled a quick apology and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his body. "I –I just hoped that …"

She shivered in his arms before slowly tilting her face up to look at him. "What did you hope for, Kurosaki-kun?"

"That maybe you …" He groaned under his breath and squeezed his eyes shut before continuing. "Dammit, I sound so arrogant saying this, but I was hoping that I meant something to you –something more than just a friend." Ichigo cracked an eye open to gauge her reaction and grimaced at her silence. "Stupid of me, huh?"

Orihime blinked, "Do …do you like me, as more than a friend?"

"I …" Ichigo hesitated before glancing around at their position. What had he been thinking, stopping on top of a utility pole? That was dangerous. "You know, this isn't the best place to talk, I'll just-"

A slim finger poked him in the center of his chest, stopping him before he could carry them to a different spot. "No, here is fine." Orihime said in a firm tone, one he hadn't heard before.

He narrowed his eyes. "You weren't saying that earlier."

She lifted a shoulder in a negligible shrug. "And you're trying to change the subject. Answer me, please."

His stomach twisted queerly when she looked up at him from under lowered brows. So many emotions swirled in their brown depths; emotions he couldn't hope to identify –or more likely, emotions he wouldn't allow himself to hope he identified correctly.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

Damn. What was up with the look she was giving him? It wasn't often he saw Orihime Inoue pleading for something that wasn't food. Ichigo blew out a breath, knowing full well he couldn't lie to her. "Yeah, I like you."

A quick intake of breath and her fingers clenched tighter into the fabric of his shihakusho, "As more than a friend?"

He silently groaned. Orihime wanted the whole confession. Well, there was no turning back now.

"Yes, I like you as more than a friend." Ichigo said, all the while hoping he didn't just ruin their friendship.

Silence stretched out between them. He felt her heart beat rapidly in time with his.

"Then," she looked down at her hands entangled in his clothing before releasing him to smooth out the rumpled fabric with a restless motion. "Then, why did you want to leave?"

He sighed at the way she worded her question. It wasn't that he wanted to leave ...it was just- "There was no reason for me to stay. You're strong; you don't need me to protect you anymore." Orihime lifted her wide gaze to meet his. Ichigo shored up his resolve and soldiered on. "Plus, the kindness and concern you show to all of your friends was becoming a painful reminder that I wasn't special in your eyes, I was just one of the crowd."

"No," Orihime breathed out and pressed even closer. "How could you think that?"

"Well why wouldn't I?" Ichigo reared back to stare down at her. "You never gave me a reason to think otherwise."

"I-I …I didn't?"

"No, you didn't." She gazed up at him in the most unflattering way, mouth hanging open, silent. He squirmed internally with a growing sense of unease and prompted, "Inoue?"

His voice snapped her out of a daze. "Tatsuki and Rukia were right." She stated with a tone of surprise.

He arched a brow at her nonsensical comment. "What?"

"You are clueless."

"Hey now." he scowled, taking offense to her mumbled remark. "I'm not stupid."

"Yes, you are." Orihime's soft smile took the sting out of her harsh words, and he could only stand there, breath seized in his chest, when she reached up to trace the down-turned corner of his mouth with her fingertip. "I've been in love with you since our first year of high school."

"What?" His eyes widened. He couldn't have heard her right. There was no way she could be in love with him –and especially not for that long. "That can't be true, I would have noticed."

"Clueless, remember?"

Ichigo opened and closed his moth in quick succession before managing to say. "I'm not that dense, Inoue. Y-you …you just didn't convey your feelings as well as you think."

She stared up at him in disbelief. "Sado-kun and Uryuu-kun were both able to interpret my feelings for you correctly -all without me having to tell them." She stated hotly before her bottom lip curled down in an affected pout.

"Chad knew?" The hand at her waist firmed, his long fingers pressing into her skin. Ichigo's eyes shifted, not focusing on any one thing, as his mind raced. "But he knows how I feel about you. He should have told me you felt the same."

"Maybe he didn't think it was his place to interfere." Orihime said in a soothing tone.

"Yeah, maybe ...wait-" his eyes snapped back to hers. Oh hell no. Chad and Uryuu were one thing, but … "You said something about Tatsuki and Rukia. They don't know too, do they?"

"Umm ...yeah, they know."

Cursing under his breath, Ichigo closed his eyes as if pained. Orihime shifted in his arms before hesitantly calling his name, her anxiety was evident in the tone of her voice. He hated to worry her, but dammit, he was already dreading the jokes at his expense. Tatsuki's teasing would be all in good fun, but not without an underlying threat of bodily harm. That was understandable; Orihime was her best friend, after all. However, that didn't even begin to compare to …

"If Rukia knows, then so does Renji." Heaven help him.

"And Rangiku-san."

Ichigo tensed at Orihime's whispered admission. "Matsumoto?" Damn, divine help might not be enough. "You're not serious, are you?"

Orihime cringed and gazed up at him warily. "I'm sorry, but she's known about my feelings for a long time now."

He blew out a breath and shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm not mad." It couldn't be helped. People were going to harass him for being blind –and a coward too. He had no one to blame but himself though. He didn't even consider that Orihime might have feelings for him too. That being said though …"I'm not going to lie and say I'm not irritated that everyone seemed to know who you liked, with the exception of me –the person who should have been told first, but-"

She gasped and pressed her hands flat against his chest. "I know, I should have told you …well, I did try to several years ago, but …"

"Hey, we're even; I didn't say anything to you either." His words quieted her rushed confession and her worry. They were both equally at fault. It was as simple as that.

Orihime's lips curved into a soft smile as she gazed up at him. For the first time, Ichigo saw the love she had for him shining clearly in her expressive eyes –and he felt humbled. "It's a good thing I'm not going to the Soul Society after all."

"Y-you're not, but why?"

He tilted his head to the side and felt his mouth relax into what he was certain a sappy besotted smile. "You should know why."

"Because of me? But-"

"But nothing." He interrupted her, his tone firm. "I already decided before I chased after you." Ichigo paused for a second to let his words sink into her head and erase her doubts. He arched a brow, giving her a teasing look. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."

She lifted up on tiptoe to stare him in the eye, her gaze earnest, "No, never that. I just don't want you to feel that you have to-"

"My mind's made up." Ichigo reached up and caught a flyaway lock of her hair between his fingers. Holding her gaze, he carefully tucked her hair behind her ear and then brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Inoue."

Orihime sank back on her heels, blushing. "Oh, okay." She said, ducking her head to hide her flushed cheeks from his gaze. She fidgeted within his arms for a moment before she quieted and murmured against his chest, "That's good."

As he pulled her closer and rested his chin on the top of her head, Ichigo had to agree. Yeah, this was good -very good.

**~o0o~**

A/N: Just a little something I started last February and finally decided to finish –almost a year and a half later in an attempt to get back into writing. I hope you enjoyed it.

As always, thanks for reading. ~Rairakku


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